Indebted
by Red and Dust
Summary: A relationship of convenience. Mello/Halle


DISCLAIMER: Death Note and its characters are property of their respective owners.

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**INDEBTED**

His gun was already aimed at her when she walked in the door, and she froze at the sight with her hand still on the knob. There were a few moments of intense silence in which several questions crossed her mind but all of which were entirely pointless to ask. How did he get in? Why was he there? How had he even come so far on his own? All could be attributed to his cunning and resources.

No, the most important question Halle had at the moment was "What happened to you?"

"What's it look like?" Mello answered. He coughed harshly, covering his mouth with the back of his free hand while keeping the gun pointed in her general direction. "I blew myself up."

The young man was a mess. A good half of his face and more, though she couldn't tell exactly how much more from the coat he was wearing, was covered in bandages that he'd obviously wrapped himself. His hair, normally well brushed and tucked neatly under at the ends, was ragged and appeared to have been burnt in small chunks so that it lay uneven. Apart from that, he'd attempted to clean himself up. His confession didn't appear to be far from the truth. He was sitting on her bed and it looked as though he might even have been laying down on it before she arrived. There was more coughing, and she sighed.

"Put that gun away," she said calmly. "You can't even aim it."

"At this distance, I wouldn't have to." But Mello didn't argue with her any further as the hand, far from steady, fell back down on the sheets still clasping the weapon. It really did look like he'd been in some sort of explosion. If he'd inhaled too much smoke that would also account for the coughing.

"Take your coat and shirt off," Halle went on. "I'll get my med kit and redo the bandages. I can't believe you traveled across the country in that condition."

"It's only a few hours by plane," came the reply, prompting her to wonder what sort of airline would take him in such a state but at the same time not wanting to ask. He gave a couple pained grunts as the items of clothing were removed, the actions causing him to pale visibly. "It's not as though anyone would have expected it."

Halle snorted at that. "Of course they wouldn't. You're a madman." Having returned from the adjoining bathroom with the item mentioned as well as a bowl of water and washrag, she set the first-aid kit down and moved to his side. This was going to hurt, and badly, but she was sure he already knew this. "Hold still." A moment later, both took simultaneous inhalations of breath - his from the pain, hers from the damage now visible. She didn't stop to ask questions, however, just kept unraveling.

"It'll scar," Mello muttered after a while of this.

"Terribly," Halle agreed.

She began cleaning the area first. Thankfully, this wasn't as bad of a task as it could have been. Mello had done at least that much for the wounds himself; they were scabbing over without bits of debris as she might have expected from an explosion. Though, he was still obviously trying not to hiss as she worked.

He must have begun speaking afterwards in an attempt to put the pain from his mind. "You owe me, you know."

This caused Halle to freeze, her expression hardening into a frown. "Owe you? I don't owe you anything. You killed almost all of the SPK just to prove a point. You're lucky I'm helping you at all."

"Left you alive, didn't I?" Mello smiled in an unfriendly manner as she paused again, the only sign that she'd heard him as she continued with the task at hand. "Come on, Halle. You don't think I couldn't have had your name written in the book just as easily?"

There was silence on the woman's end for a while more. She wanted to scowl, to take the man's gun and shove it inside the fool's mouth just to prove her _own_ point, but she didn't. Fact was, if he was still alive then they were still fighting for the same cause, no matter what the method. "I'm not a pawn." Her voice was steady. "If you'd have killed me you wouldn't have had anyone else on the inside who was truly trustworthy. You _could_ have killed me, but you'd have been worse off for it. I owe you nothing."

Mello _hmphed_ softly but didn't immediately have a return argument. Granted, this was owed half in part to the fact that she had now begun spreading a cool cream over some of his burns. It helped with the pain, and there was a moment when he closed his eyes and swayed where he sat until he forced himself to remain awake.

When she'd finished with that, she began slowly re-wrapping the injuries. Though she tried to be gentle, this process was obviously more painful than the last.

"So why are you still helping me?" the man asked with a slight wince. "Isn't Near supposed to be the best chance you have?"

"Near is a child."

Halle said it quickly and sharply enough that Mello was momentarily taken back. Before the look of surprise could change into something self-satisfied, the woman added "And so are you."

Mello was, of course, immediately ready to argue with that. "Don't compare me to him."

"Why not? Isn't that what you want?" She tugged hard on the end of a bandage as she wrapped it over his shoulder, causing him to gasp painfully before he could answer right away. "I want Kira stopped. I'm helping both of you so that the chances of this coming about are greater. That's all."

Nothing much else was spoken between them after that. Halle finished wrapping his wounds as he sat quietly, brows knit together. She couldn't tell if he was angry or thoughtful. The expression was often similar. Eventually she stood and left the room in order to get both of them something to drink.

When she returned, with two cups of tea and a few chocolate bars on a small tray, Mello had fallen asleep sitting up. She stood over him with the tray still in hand for a time, trying to figure out how best to handle the situation, before she set the beverages aside. Gently, she eased him from the uncomfortably slumped position he was in onto his back. The movement didn't wake him, which said a lot about how exhausted he must have been.

Did he honestly trust her enough that he'd feel safe falling asleep in her home? She supposed it said enough that he'd come to her in the first place, though she'd assumed he had nowhere better. She shook her head and sighed. At least the sofa was reasonably comfortable.

It might have said something about herself, as well, that she was willing to fall asleep with someone like that just a room over.

The chocolate was gone the next morning, though the tea had been untouched. He'd taken fifty dollars from her wallet as well, and left no thank you. When he returned again a few days later, however, she let him back in. No questions asked.


End file.
